


nothing's gonna grow to replace

by sarahcakes613



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Body Worship, Breaking Up & Making Up, Lawyer Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25351240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Rafael Barba gets caught up in his own head and blames himself for Sonny being passed over for a really good case, and he tries to break up with Sonny for Sonny's own good. Sonny is having none of that.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 46
Collections: Barisi Summer Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveMeSomeRafael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveMeSomeRafael/gifts).



> I had so much fun writing my first Barisi exchange fic! I had three fantastic prompts and I wound up blending two of them into one story. The first prompt was Barisi breaking up and then reuniting and the second was Sonny and Rafael's first meeting and falling silently in love, from both perspectives. I hope this suits to fit both for my giftee!
> 
> They also said they'd like some Mike Dodds, and I'm sorry he doesn't make an actual appearance beyond some mentions, but he is very much alive and well!!

**Carmen** : He didn’t get it. _Sent 2:47pm_

Rafael types a quick acknowledgement back to Carmen, and then sits back in his chair slowly, letting the feeling of surprise sink in.

There’s absolutely no reason Sonny should have been passed up to be first chair on this case. He’s got the most seniority of the ADA’s assigned to sex crimes, his conviction record is almost as good as Barba’s own, even Hadid has begrudgingly admitted that he’s a good man to have on staff.

It’s a slam dunk case, the kind that can bring only positive attention to the person who nails it, it’s every prosecutor’s dream case, and it should have been Sonny’s.

Rafael runs through what he knows about the case in his mind. He knows Barth is defense, a fact that will never stop being strange to him. She’d been a good judge, fair, even if they often didn’t see eye to eye on relevancies. He may have heard rumours to the effect of her breathing a sigh of relief when he left the DA’s office.

He sits up straight then, an impossible thought winding it’s way into his head. It doesn’t seem possible, or probable, but what if?

What if Barth reached out to the DA, asked him who was going to be prosecuting her defendant? There’s no reason he wouldn’t tell her, as a professional courtesy. Is it possible she would then have requested that he reconsider?

It does seem possible; the more Rafael thinks about it. He mentally lays all the facts out in front of him like jury cards. Barth knows his tactics. Barth does not like his tactics. Barth knows that Sonny wears an engagement ring given to him by one Professor Rafael Barba. It’s a logical leap forward to think she would then know that facing Sonny in court will be much like facing Barba.

Rafael slumps forward, elbows on the desk, face in his hands. This is his fault. He always knew he’d end up dragging Sonny down, but he didn’t expect it to be like this. He’d told Sonny so many times, and Sonny never listened, and now here is undeniable proof.

Barba is poison to Sonny’s career.

He is still slumped in his chair nearly an hour later when Sonny knocks on the open door as he walks into Rafael’s office.

It’s barely a quarter of the size of his space at 1 Hogan, but it’s big enough for two chairs in front of his desk, one of which Sonny sprawls into, his legs out in front of him.

“You mind if we just get a takeaway tonight?” Sonny asks, “I don’t really feel like cookin’.”

“Sure,” Rafael replies absently. He looks Sonny over, taking in his tired eyes, the downwards slope of his shoulder. “You okay?”

Sonny looks over at him in surprise. “Yeah, ‘course, why – oh, Carmen told you, didn’t she?”

Rafael nods. He’d asked Carmen to come with him when he left, but she was happy working for the city, even if it had meant going back into the paralegal pool, and she’d proved a useful ally in keeping an eye on his fiancé, especially on the lowering levels of his antacid supply. He’s been letting her use his credit card to keep it stocked when Sonny’s not looking.

Sonny takes a deep breath and lets it out in a gust. “It would have been a good notch on my belt, but I can’t complain too much, given the circumstances. I mighta made the same call.”

Rafael narrows his eyes. What does Sonny mean? Does he mean he would have chosen whichever second-rate colleague Hadid picked? Or does he mean he would have done what Barth’s obviously done and tried to manipulate who the prosecutor is to suit his own preferences?

“Still, it doesn’t seem fair that they would hold this against you.” Rafael states cautiously.

“Hm?” Sonny looks over at him, and he gestures between them.

“Barth probably thought she would have a better chance with someone not connected to me.” Rafael elaborates.

“What?” Sonny looks confused now. “Raf, no, that’s not what happened.”

Rafael has had an hour to build up a head of steam though, and he ignores Sonny.

“Are you sure? This isn’t the first time you’ve missed out on a good case, either, and that’s not to mention the ones Hadid has given you almost expecting you to lose. My god, do you think she’s in on it too?”

“In on – Rafi, what are you talking about?”

“Me, I’m talking about me, and the fact that being with me may as well be career poison for you.”

He pushes away from his desk, stands up, starts pacing.

Sonny puts his hands out, placating. “Hey, Rafi, this isn’t…whatever you think it is. Let’s just go home, okay, I’ll tell you all about it over a curry, yeah?”

Rafael turns to face him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sonny looks at him, eyes scanning his face. “The curry, or…”

“I think we should break up.”

Sonny’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me,” Rafael begins pacing again. “I’m holding you back, you’re never going to make the career moves you want to make if you’re saddled with the baggage of being in a relationship with a disgraced former ADA. Perhaps it would just be easier to end things now, before paperwork becomes necessary.”

Sonny stands up, his long legs carrying him over to Rafael in two long strides.

“Listen, I’m not sure what’s going on in that normally really very smart brain of yours, but you need to take a minute to think about this.” Sonny says, and his voice is strained, Rafael can tell he’s working to keep his emotions out of his voice.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Rafael lies. “And I think it’s what would be best for both of us, really.” He doesn’t mean it, but Sonny’s too good to see the truth of their situation, and somebody has to be the bad guy. He’s fine with it being him, again.

“Well that’s just tough fucking luck, cause it takes two to break up, and I’m not letting you do this.” Sonny says. “I’m going home, and I’m going to order some dinner, and maybe you’ll come home tonight, or maybe you won’t, but I’m not leavin’ that apartment til you come to your senses.”

Sonny doesn’t slam the door behind him when he leaves, but the latch clicks loud enough that it may as well be a gong sounding in Rafael’s brain.

It’s the best for them both, Rafael repeats to himself, and he says it again out loud, ignoring the obvious lie in his own voice.

He slumps back into his chair and closes his eyes. His head hurts. His office hours are done for the day and he wishes he had a stack of papers to grade, something he could use as an excuse to stay in his office all evening.

Teaching’s made him soft, he thinks, no longer used to late hours run entirely on scotch and coffee. He used to be tougher, used to be harsher, it used to be Sonny would never even have had the audacity to talk back, not really. He’d sass but it would be bluster, ready to be retracted the minute he thought Rafael actually took offence.

He thinks about how much Sonny has grown into his confidence in the years since they met, since his hectic first week at SVU.

* * *

Sonny had joined the squad in the midst of the fallout from the Ellie Porter situation, thrown into an already-airing drama with pimps and trafficked girls and Noah’s first weeks with Olivia. That first day they hadn’t spoken directly, but Rafael’s eye had been drawn to the loud gangly man with the appalling facial hair.

Olivia had ranted about him, about his promise to one of the girls, something about getting her T non-immigrant status, a promise he couldn’t possibly have thought they could really keep. At the time, Rafael had been annoyed, it added more work to his own plate, but he’d also been impressed, because it was the kind of thing he would have thought of.

Of course, that was before he’d actually spoken to the new detective, and he is loath to admit it now but at the time, Rafael had looked for reasons not to like him. Amaro’s methods were overbearing, to be sure, but they had a lot in common, and he’d seen Carisi as an interloper.

An interloper with a tight ass and legs that wouldn’t quit, both things he’d noticed that first day, despite the baggy suit.

An interloper with a keen mind and a memory for obscure legal references, something he would come to learn as they worked together.

An interloper who began taking up real estate in Barba’s mind for reasons he could not comprehend, until they’d been sitting side by side in stiff plastic hospital chairs, waiting for their turn to visit with Sergeant Dodds as he lay recuperating after being shot.

They’d sat together, thighs pressing against each other, for hours. Carisi refused to let Barba out of his sight for longer than a trip to the vending machine and Rafael had chalked it up to a squad-as-family thing, the detective extending to him the same level of care he would extend to Rollins or Fin.

Except he didn’t tense whenever someone he didn’t recognize walked by Rollins or Fin.

His hand dropped to his holster every time someone let their gaze linger too long on the prosecutor beside him.

And that’s when Rafael knew. Sonny was speaking, only he wasn’t really hearing the words, focused too intently on the detective’s mouth. He remembers something about not being worried, and he had replied with “I’m not worried. Not with you.” and Sonny’s eyes had softened and it was in that moment that Rafael had known he was done for.

Sonny’s memories are different.

He knows he was introduced to Barba that first week but the man was one of many new names in a very short space of time and all he remembers is a tan suit and a firm handshake. Sonny’s first week at SVU is mostly a hazy memory of term papers and being thrown in the deep end, of racing home to call his sister because everyone in Manhattan dresses like they’re in Manhattan and he looked like a country bumpkin just in for a ride-along.

He’d finally shaved the ‘stache, and Rollins had been snarky, but everyone else had shifted, had begun to see him as someone they could take seriously. They’d been in the squad room, feeling frustrated at the spinning wheels on the Tensley Evans case.

Rollins had made another of her pointed jabs at him and he’d snapped back, a rhetorical question that he didn’t expect Barba to step in and answer. He’d been as snarky as Rollins, but it had been less pointed and more like one of his professors egging him on, and he’d looked at Barba and really seen him.

Seen this passionate angry man who didn’t believe in cases he couldn’t win and then, in his office with those disgusting audition reels, he’d seen a man who knew he’d just won the case, and he couldn’t help but feel that it was his own comments abut Brubeck doing it to other girls that had led them down this track and even if the others don’t acknowledge it, Sonny thinks of this case as the first one he’d cracked.

From there he is off to the races, every new case a new opportunity to learn and to show off, maybe just a little, for the ADA who delights in cutting him down any time he has a thought, and it’s like his own private law school seminars. Rollins had softened to him eventually, and teased him for the way he would eagerly write down everything Barba said in his notebook so he could look it up when he got home.

And then Barba was getting death threats and the Sarge almost died, and Sonny had an epiphany while sitting in the world’s most uncomfortable waiting room, his legs too long, his ass too bony to be sitting on hard plastic for hours on end, but he wouldn’t leave, he couldn’t leave. Because Barba was still there.

Barba, who looked at him and told him he felt safe, surrounded by cops, despite everything.

Barba, who felt safe enough to finally fall asleep, his head on Sonny’s shoulder, while they waited their turn to see the Sarge.

The room had largely emptied out by then, and those remaining weren’t paying attention to the two of them. All the same, Sonny had looked around quickly before turning his head just the slightest amount and placing a gentle kiss, a ghost of a kiss really, on Barba’s forehead.

And then he’d frozen, because Barba’s eyes had opened. His eyes had opened and his mouth was curved into a sleepy smile, and he’d leaned up and pressed his own ghost of a kiss on Sonny’s cheek.

He remembers the feeling of dry lips on his stubble, he remembers his heart beating so fast he thought they might need a crash cart, and he remembers thinking this was it, he was done for.

It had been a long and exhausting day, a long and exhausting week. He’d spent most of it equal parts angry and worried about Barba, about his predilection for putting himself in danger, for his inability to see that others might have feelings on the matter, thoughts about his safety worth giving ear to.

And in that moment, Sonny had thought in some small way, maybe it was all so this could happen.

* * *

Sonny does not slam the door on his way out, but he does nearly bowl over a handful of 2L students on their way into the building as he leaves. They stare at him, and he doesn’t know if they recognize him from court tours, or from his occasional visits to Barba’s classroom, or if they’re just staring at him because he’s a 6-foot-tall man with tears in his eyes who almost body-checked them.

He hadn’t even been given the chance to explain to Rafael why he wasn’t chosen as the prosecutor for this case, Rafael had just added two and two and somehow made it equal self-martyrdom. He hadn’t even entertained the notion that Sonny might have something to say that would assuage his concerns. He glares up at the building, at the small window that he knows is Raf’s office.

Even in his anger, Sonny can’t turn off who he is. He’s not going to let Rafael remove himself from Sonny’s narrative, not without a fight. He doesn’t know if Raf will come home tonight or if he’ll get a text from Liv at 2 in the morning, but for now, he’s going to go about his evening like the past hour hasn’t happened.

He calls in a dinner order to their favourite Bengali restaurant and gets into his car. By the time he gets through the Manhattan afternoon traffic, it will be ready for pickup.

He gets home close to six pm, and Rafael is not there. He checks his phone, no missed texts or voicemails while he was driving. He sets the food down in the kitchen, heads into the bedroom to shower and change out of his suit.

When he pads back out of the bedroom twenty minutes later in sweatpants and an old baseball shirt, the food is sitting where he left it, no one else in the apartment. He scoops some rice and curry into a bowl and lets himself flop onto the couch, legs up on the coffee table. He’s got a couple of DVR’d games to catch up on if he has any hope of beating Mike in this year’s fantasy baseball league.

The TV turns on to TLC, and an episode of Four Weddings. He can hear Rafael scoffing in his ear, as if he wouldn’t be the one taking his hand off the remote, suggesting they watch it, if only for the ideas. They are – not were, no matter what Raf thinks – in the early days of planning their own nuptials, not that a single episode of this has ever given them an idea worth keeping.

Three episodes later, Sonny has put the rest of the food in the fridge and is back on the couch going over case notes when he hears a key in the lock. He looks over to see Rafael looking as tired as he feels.

“There’s curry in the fridge.” Sonny says, eyes already back down on his papers. When he doesn’t get an immediate response he cuts his eyes over to Rafael, who looks surprised to see Sonny sitting there.

“What are you doing here?” Rafael asks.

Sonny arches an eyebrow at him. “I live here. I pay half the rent on this place. I told you, I’m not goin’ anywhere til we talk.”

Rafael stares at him, lips set in a thin frown. “Fine. I’ll go stay with mami for a few days, we can figure out the apartment later.”

Sonny throws his pen down in frustration and stalks down the hallway after his fiancé. He finds him in the bedroom, arm stretched out above him to reach for a duffel bag on the top shelf of the closet.

“Would you please get that down for me?” He huffs waspishly at Sonny, waving at the duffel.

Sonny folds his arms in front of his chest. “No.”

Rafael rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m borrowing your gym bag.”

He pulls the gym bag out from under a pile of shoes and begins jerkily opening and shutting drawers. Sonny picks up the gym bag and shoves it next to the duffel on the closet shelf.

Rafael looks incredulously at him. “Really, Sonny? Very mature, a grown man using my height against me.”

Sonny shrugs. “I’ll use every trick in the book if I gotta. Besides, I’m not sure the man who isn’t even willin’ to talk about it has any right to be callin’ others immature.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m doing this for your own good, and eventually you will see that.”

“My own good, my god, listen to yourself!” Sonny throws his hands up. “You’ve created this entire conspiracy scenario in your head where I’m just, what, some Staten Island stolto who won’t get anywhere in life because what, people don’t like who I’m gettin’ married to? Do you hear yourself? You been out of the DA’s office for two years Rafi, no one cares anymore!”

Rafael glares at him. “You’ve told me yourself that Hadid treats you like some second-stringer, that she shuts you down at every turn.”

“Yeah, she does. And it sucks. But I’m the rookie again, that’s all. There’s nothing conspiratorial about it.”

A look of doubt is starting to crawl across Rafael’s face.

“Then why would she go along with Barth’s request to keep you from trying this case?”

Sonny is sure his eyebrows are somewhere in his hairline at this point.

“Rafi, the only thing Barth requested was a deal.”

“What?”

Sonny nods. “I didn’t get the case because no one got the case. Barth’s client decided not to put his family through the trial, they went above Hadid directly to the DA and pled out. Carmen wouldn’t have known the details when she texted you, and if you’d let me get more than two words out this afternoon I woulda told you the good news.”

Rafael stumbles to the bed, sinks down on it.

“So all of this, I was just – “

“Overreacting because you’ve got a habit of fallin’ on your sword? Yeah, pretty much.” Sonny ambles over to sit next to him.

Rafael turns to face him. “Sonny, mi querido, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t – I don’t want this to be over.”

Sonny smiles down at him. “It was never gonna be over, Rafi. I’m not afraid of a little drama, it’s gonna take more than that to scare me away for good.”

“Still,” Rafael clutches Sonny’s arm. “You were right. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have listened to you and not jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Sonny says softly. “And I’m proud of you for admitting your mistake. Now come on, I know you’ve probably only consumed coffee and pretzels since lunchtime. Let me heat up some food for you.”

Rafael nods, but clutches tighter to Sonny’s arm when he begins to stand. He sits back down, looking at his fiancé.

“Just…wait?” He asks. “I just want to sit here a moment.”

Sonny wraps an arm around Rafael and kisses his forehead. “We can sit here as long as you need, babe. I’m right here with you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael wants to show Sonny just how much he is loved.

They’re sitting at the kitchen table, Rafael eating warmed up leftovers and Sonny going over some notes for work. They’re quiet, comfortably existing in the same space without talking, and Rafael is overwhelmed with a sense of discomfort at how close he came to losing this – to losing Sonny.

Because of his own ego. And that’s really what it was, he knows it.

He’d gotten so caught up in his own reputation, let it colour his perception of other people’s decisions. And he’d nearly let it cost him everything.

He finishes his food and watches Sonny for a few moments. The other man is absorbed in his papers, idly fanning himself with a folder, a pen tucked between his lips.

His gaze is heavy, and Sonny looks up to see Rafael’s eyes on him. He’s got his lower lip between his teeth, a sign that he’s thinking deeply, and Sonny is reluctant to interrupt.

“What are you thinking about?” Sonny asks.

Rafael blinks, releasing his lip. Sonny wants to lick at the small dents left by his teeth.

“You,” He murmurs. “How lucky I am to have you in my life. And how foolish I can be.”

Sonny’s eyes go soft, his mouth curving into a small smile. He neatens up his pile of papers and stands up, coming around and leaning against the table next to Rafael’s chair.

“Come on,” he says quietly, holding a hand out. “it’s been a long day. Why don’t we go to bed?”

Rafael takes his hand, brings it up to his mouth. He kisses each finger tip lightly, curls Sonny’s hand over and kisses the back, opens it and kisses the palm.

He lets Sonny pull him up and lead him to the bedroom.

They undress silently, brush their teeth side by side. They keep catching eyes in the mirror, and every time it happens, he sees the crinkles around Sonny’s eyes deepen as he smiles at Rafael’s reflection.

Rafael’s always been good with words when it comes to work, when it comes to arguing, but they have a habit of failing him when he wants to convey his emotions. He relies instead on his actions, and tonight he wants – no, he needs to show Sonny how much he is loved, how appreciated he is.

They climb into bed and Rafael turns on his side to face Sonny, who is on his back. He drapes an arm over Sonny’s chest, drops a kiss on the slope of his shoulder. Sonny hums and Rafael props himself up, leaning over to kiss Sonny’s collar bone, the dip of his throat.

He gently sucks at the skin over Sonny’s pulse point, hard enough to redden but not bruise. He pushes the blanket down, exposing Sonny’s torso, and runs his hand down the length of his fiancé’s body.

Sonny hums again, arching his back, pushing himself up against Rafael. Rafael smiles and Sonny can feel it against his chest as the other man keeps kissing him.

His mouth does not stop mapping Sonny’s skin, his hand does not stop sweeping his body, and Sonny is caught between, never knowing where he will feel what. There is a wet tongue on his nipple, pen-callused fingers caressing the dip of his Apollo's belt.

Rafael does not stop moving, pushing the blanket as he goes, until it is at Sonny’s feet, where he gives it one final nudge off the bed. He pushes at Sonny’s legs, widening them, climbing over to kneel between them.

Sonny looks down at Rafael kneeling in front of him, breath hot and heavy over his belly button. His green eyes are filled with emotion. Arousal, yes, but also an anxious energy, like he is still waiting for Sonny to say he’s had a better offer elsewhere. Like he’s got no idea that he’s the best deal Sonny could possibly negotiate for himself.

Rafael lowers himself to the edge of the bed, picks up Sonny’s foot, kissing the instep. He repeats it on the other side and then kisses a line up his shin. He alternates, making an effort not to miss a single inch of his lover’s long legs.

He lightly tickles the crook of Sonny’s knees, just a feather whisper of fingers, before lowering his mouth to Sonny’s thigh and kissing his way up. He nibbles, sucking small hickeys into the downy-soft skin of his inner thigh, and then switches sides, until both thighs have a line of imprints, the shape of Rafael’s mouth temporarily embedded in Sonny’s flesh.

Sonny has been still, trying not to move, not wanting to dislodge or accidentally kick his lover, but he has not been silent.

He gasps, lets out low moans, cries out in a high pitched breathy “oh!” when Rafael’s breath ghosts over his cock on his way from one thigh to the other. His hips twitch, wanting to buck, but Rafael’s got a hand on him, holding him in place.

He ignores Sonny’s hard cock, skipping from his thighs back up to his hips, and he drags his tongue along Sonny’s iliac furrow, softer, less prominent now that he spends less time chasing after criminals and more time sitting in court rooms.

He runs his fingers through the sparse hair on Sonny’s stomach, trailing up and down the line between his groin and his belly button. He circles Sonny’s belly with his tongue and then looks up to his lover’s face.

Sonny’s head is tilted, straining, wanting to watch Rafael. Looking down the length of his torso, he sees Rafael looking up at him, bright green eyes peering up through his lashes.

Sonny drops his head back down, unable to maintain eye contact, the look in the other man’s eyes is too intense, too focused on him. He shivers, feeling the strength of the other man’s emotions.

Rafael pulls himself up over Sonny, looking down at him with concern.

“Estas bien, querido?” He asks it gently, like there is no wrong answer, like Sonny could say stop or keep going or anything in between and he would obey without question.

Sonny nods, his own eyes screwed shut.

“Sonny, look at me.” Rafael’s voice is still gentle, but firm, and he cups Sonny’s cheek with one large hand. “Look at me, love.”

Sonny opens his eyes and looks up at Rafael, who smiles at him. The dark intensity is gone, replaced by a glimmering happiness.

Sonny tilts his chin up and purses his lips, silently requesting a kiss, and Rafael acquiesces immediately, skimming his lips against Sonny’s, who lets his mouth fall open. Tongues and lips slide together, softly at first and then more urgently, as the pleasure that has been simmering in Sonny’s body threatens to boil over.

He absently registers the heavy sensation of Rafael’s cock brushing against his, feels the damp stickiness of precum on his stomach, though he doesn’t know who it’s from. He reaches down, wanting to touch, but Rafael grabs his arm by the wrist and pins it down by his side.

He arches up, desperate for contact, and Rafael obliges, moving his hand down between their bodies and wrapping his long fingers tightly around both of them. Sonny gasps at the grip and Rafael eagerly licks the sound out of his mouth.

His hand moves slowly, stroking them both, and Sonny’s orgasm hits him by surprise, a low groan and sudden spurting of cum coating Rafael’s hand, dripping down onto Sonny’s belly.

Rafael sits back on his legs and Sonny can see he is still hard, some of Sonny’s spunk coating the tip, and it’s enough to make his own now-flaccid cock twitch again with interest. He expects Rafael to jerk himself off now, but he doesn’t, he just sits there watching Sonny, hands resting on his thighs.

Sonny folds his arms behind his head, smirking at Rafael.

“Like what you see?” He asks, his accent thick with relaxation.

He does, Sonny’s arms folded like this put his biceps on display, and Rafael’s eyes skim over him greedily, letting the image of this sated version of his lover burn into his mind.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies. And then, because he’s still feeling a need to shower Sonny with positively affirming attention, he continues. “You’re beautiful, Sonny. You’re so beautiful.”

It’s nothing but the truth, but Sonny blushes, a light pink tint rising up on his chest and neck. Rafael knows from experience that the blushing skin will be hot to the touch and it sends a wave of lust through him, his cock throbbing, begging for attention.

Sonny licks his lips as he watches Rafael curl a hand around himself and begin stroking, spreading Sonny’s cum and his own precum around to slick his way. He straddles Sonny, knees tucked in at his waist, and from this angle, Sonny’s view is of knuckles moving fast, the tip of Raf’s cock pushing through the tightness of his fist.

Rafael is close, he can feel the spring coiling at the base of his spine, tightening, until it spirals out of him and he comes, splashing Sonny’s heated skin, cum landing across his chest and up his collarbone.

Rafael slumps down next to his lover and reaches for the box of tissues on the nightstand. He swipes at his cock and is more gentle with Sonny, carefully wiping him clean.

Sonny is staring at him, eyes wide with wonder and affection, and now it is Rafael’s turn to squirm under the attention, his tanned skin deepening to a flushed red.

He pulls the blanket back up and over them both before turning onto his side, his back to Sonny. Sonny wraps one long arm around him, hand splaying flat over Rafael’s stomach and presses himself against Rafael’s back. They fit together so well, and Rafael is again struck by how close he came to making the biggest mistake of his life. He wiggles back, an effort to become even closer to the other man than he already is, and Sonny’s arm tightens around him in silent response.

His breathing drops into a slow steady rhythm as he drifts to sleep, and Sonny counts heartbeats, letting the other man’s pulse act as his metronome.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Prettier Face by Hawksley Workman and FYI the entire album Between the Beautifuls is a Barisi album, it's just a fact.


End file.
